


Choices

by freakypet



Series: A short collection of Drabbles [1]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: But just a little, Choices, Drabble, Gen, One Shot, Post-Season/Series Finale, Slight Scoobie Bashing, alternative universe, bamf!Andrew, brain dump story, no comics, world building
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-22 23:48:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13775199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freakypet/pseuds/freakypet
Summary: 5 years after Sunnydale and everything is going well. Watchers Council is back up and running, Slayers are now trained and supported all over the world, the Scoobies are off leading productive adult lives. Everyone is happy and well.But Buffy is bored. So bored. And so the PTB decide to step in.It's all just about Choices in the end.





	Choices

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little something that worked its way to the top of the pile in my mind and demanded to be written. So here it is, written (and posted - eep!-) in just a few hours, un-beta'ed and presented for your perusal and *hopefully* enjoyment.
> 
> At this stage it's a one off as I am pathetic in keeping any kind of interest or commitment to anything right now. :D
> 
> *reviews fuel the muse*
> 
> Disclaimer - not mine, nothing is mine but this particular story. Everything else belongs to the rightful owners. Which is not me.

 

* * *

 

 

Nothing was like it should be.

Well, of course it wasn’t.

She should have died a dozen times over - had died at least half that for real. But as Buffy looked around her, she knew that had anyone told her this would be her future, she would have laughed or punched their faces.

Around her, the Council Headquarters was a bustling hub of industry - or so Andrew had said in one of his weekly video updates to her. People walked briskly to and fro, clutching files and talking with others either in person or on phones glued to ears. In the distance, Buffy could hear the sounds of training shouts and weapon clashes. Above her, she could just make out the girlish chatter as classes let out for the day.  
When they had shown up 5 years ago, battered and hurting, Buffy, with Giles and the Sunnydale refugees, had bullied and forced the remaining, cowardly remnants of the Council to step down and took control themselves. It had taken years to sort out the convoluted workings of the Watchers Council. It was like tracking a flea on a Fyarl demon! Even Giles had been shocked at the extent of the Council’s holdings and reach.

Hidden properties, accounts, files, libraries - you name it, the Council had it or at least access to it. It had taken Willow doing some reveal spells to expose the extent of their new wealth of funds and knowledge.  
But finally they had wrestled control and were now a cohesive group.

Slayers from around the world were brought to the Central Manor House in rural Cornwall. The old country house had been almost a derelict, neglected for decades in favour of snotty, highbrowed London addresses - expensive snotty, highbrowed London addresses that the Scoobies had immediately vetoed.

With now unlimited funds and able-if-not-completely-willing superbeings roped into helping, they had repaired and renovated the massive mansion and the surrounding buildings and eventually even the local village. Unlike the council of old, families were now welcomed to accompany their newly powered daughters (and a few sons) and had been settled close to their offspring in the village, which had become a thriving though private community. It also had the added benefit that they now had a wealth of in-the-know loyal peoples to whom they could absorb into their extensive employment needs.  
Slayers themselves were now housed and trained at Central HQ, and once vetted and ‘graduated’, were sent back out, usually back to their own countries only this time fully funded and supported with their own teams of Watchers, Witches and other supports, often an experienced Slayer went along as well.

It had come as no surprise to Buffy and the Gang that the high mortality rate that had been such a norm in the past for the young slayers had dropped considerably. In fact, they hadn’t lost a single Slayer under their charge since they took over.

 

Buffy smiled as the sounds of happy girls swirled around her and she watched as the latest intake of slayettes - all 16 from rural China, Mongolia and Nepal - and their adult attendants / parents / interpreters hustled past in bright clothing and even brighter smiles. They were only here for a short time while Chao-Ahn sorted out the new HQ in Shanghai - the last having been damaged by a Shemitee demon that took apparent offense to having Slayers in his town.

Buffy’s phone beeped softly, letting her know that she was now late for her meeting with Giles and the Council. With a resigned sigh and definitely NOT a longing glance towards the Training Wing, Buffy stepped quicker towards the conference rooms.

2 Hours later and Buffy hid the yawn behind her hand as she struggled to stay awake as Michael?Michelle?Martin? Droned on about percentages of demon sightings vs attacks in god-knows-where. Giles glanced her way with a frown and a raised eyebrow and Buffy straightened up and attempted to look interested, but god, she was BORED! Since the New Watcher's Council had stabilized and everything was now running as smoothly as an organisation that prevented weekly apocalypses could run, Buffy was deathly, insanely bored.  
With over 500 Slayers now out in the world, around 600 still in training facilities and another 300 odd on call, Buffy was no longer the last defence against the darkness. In fact, the last time she had even been ‘out in the field’ had been supervising a final exam for graduating Slayers and Watchers!  
  
Buffy looked around as the noise swelled and realised that the meetings had finally ended, people were shaking hands and talking amongst themselves, several demons even popping out before they had even finished straightening from their chairs. That was just rude, Buffy snorted. If SHE had done that, she would have been victim to yet another of Giles and Andrew’s lectures on proper conduct. Buffy found herself wishing deep inside her mind - lessons learnt long ago to never word a wish out loud - that she really could vanish away at will. Any chance for a little excitement, some break to the monotonous ‘adulting’ that was now her life. But the thoughts were pushed aside as she was yet again forced into polite conversation with those around her.  
  
  
  
Later that week, she hung up the phone and sighed deeply and settled back into the overstuffed couch cushions. Angel had cut their chat short when he had been needed by Cordelia to help with one of the twins after their bath. Since he Shanshu’edy-thingy after taking down Wolfram & Hart and being the sole survivor, he had gone the whole White Picket Fence thing with a returned Cordy. Kids and all. And for a few years, he and Buffy had been closer than ever, supporting each other in this new phase of their lives, as the two Champions adjusted to their new ‘normal life’.  
But where Angel was needing to talk less and less, Buffy found the opposite as the years passed. Everything was quiet on the supernatural front, Council affairs were definitely NOT Buffy’s thing, she was still a more hands on kinda gal. Even Dawn was off doing her own thing, exploring her world and living like any other 22yr old. They caught up every few weeks for dinner if they were lucky and the occasional phone chats, but otherwise Dawn had ‘flown the nest’ and very definitely hadn’t looked back.  
  
The diminutive Slayer didn’t even really patrol any more. No need when you lived in a county where hundreds of slayers and their assorted kind lived and trained and all wanted to practice their skills. Any demon worth their salt had packed up and moved away to less death inclined areas.

In short, Buffy was bored. Insanely, chronically, sobbingly BORED! Where once she would have moaned to Angel and had a sympathetic member of the Whinge Club, Angel had instead taken to telling her that maybe it was time to settle down herself. Even after Buffy had haltingly reminded him of the last time she dated and what a complete and horrific disaster that had been - she had sneezed unexpectedly mid-welcoming-hug and accidentally headbutted Simon’s shoulder, completely dislocating it and breaking his collarbone. Even Angel had had to admit that was completely random even as he pushed the whole chances-it-would-never-happen-again angle. She didn’t even want to think about how bad sex could get now.

Unlike Angel, who had lost most of his vampiric strength when he went human, Buffy had simply gotten stronger as the years went by. Even when she cut back on her training, she could feel the difference when she compared moves she had struggled with in earlier years that were simple and honestly easier now.  
For a while Buffy had taken to doing extreme sports and had gained quite a reputation in the fields of ice and free climbing and all sorts until Giles had ordered her to stop drawing attention to them all. She had done so begrudgingly, seeing Giles wisdom in the order, but hating it at the same time. One less thing to do, one less connection.

She didn’t really have anyone else much anymore either. The Scoobies had drifted away after the whole First thing - too many burned bridges, too many hard memories and harsh words - so while they were still friends and co-workers, they no longer had that close connection that had defined so much of their youthful lives. Xander was running the African contingent and Willow was a High Priestess of the US Wiccan Coven and busy with her own soon-to-be family due in a few months. Buffy supposed it was like everyone else out in the ‘real world’. At least that’s what daytime tv and Facebook told her in spades! Friends and families just drifted apart as lives changed and situations morphed over the years. And while Buffy and Giles worked together at the Cornwall HQ, they too no longer had that surrogate father/daughter relationship. They were friendly and often caught up for drinks or meals, but a wall had grown up after everything that had happened and Buffy found herself not caring enough to do much else about it. She knew that the trust that had been such a strong link of their relationship had been irreconcilably ruptured and no amount of work would fix it.

 

She sighed again and kicked her feet out to wriggle her toes with their freshly painted nails in the rare English sun that streamed through her windows. Glaring at the phone, she contemplated calling for takeout but even that seemed too much to do so she huffed again and sunk deeper into her snit. Stupid Angel and his stupid advice.

She was starting to count dust particles in the sunlight when she realised she was no longer alone in her spacious apartment. With the hair on the back of her neck rising, she subtly slid her hand into the back of the couch and grabbed the stake she kept there. Well, ‘kept’ was being a little generous. It had fallen out of her jacket and she had simply shoved it down and away instead of putting it away in her weapons cupboard. Meh, came in handy now didn’t it.

With a burst of supernatural speed, Buffy sprung over the back of the couch and slammed her surprise visitor against the wall, hand on his throat and stake pressed against his chest.

“Whoa whoa whoa chicky, chillax on the aggro!” The squinty eyed man spluttered as he held up his hands in supplication. “Here in peace Buffy, in peace!” Buffy blinked, but didn’t relax her grip a micron as she tried to remember how she knew her intruder. A second later, her lip curling in resigned disgust, she threw her hands up and stepped back.

“Whistler!?”

 

**************************************************************************************************

 

Buffy blinked in shock as the conversation she had just had slowly seeped in. The PTB’s messenger sat on the armchair, leaning forward onto his knees as he waited for the Slayer to speak. But all Buffy could seem to do was blink slowly. After a while, Whistler sighed and stood, straightening his jacket and tapping the front of his hat as though checking it was still there.

“Look Buffy, I know this is a big info dump, but I gotta go, yeah? But look, I’ll keep my ears out and when you’re ready, gimme a shout and I’ll jump right back, hey?” His eyes crinkled even more as he smiled kindly at the stunned woman. And then he was gone.

It was only when Buffy suddenly realised that she could no longer see her bare (and now freezing) toes that she even realized that hours had passed. The apartment was now dark with deepening shadows, the sky outside showing the first stars of the evening. With creaking joints and aching muscles, she forced herself to her feet and to the kitchen where she chugged orange juice straight from the carton, draining it in minutes.

Thirst quenched, she stood in her modern kitchen, with it’s white appliances and tiles, bright yellow accents and not for the first time, felt out of place here. She had never really felt at home anywhere since Sunnydale. With that thought rolling around her mind, she wandered through her home, fingers trailing over soft fabrics and smooth walls until she found herself standing by the side of her bed.

For lack of anything else to do, she curled up on the soft mattress and pulled up the comforter to roll herself into a blanket-taco and snuggled down. Her mind was spinning at a million miles an hour. All the possibilities that Whistler had laid at her feet raced through her. Memories and wishes made and not made, all crowding through, flashing in front of her eyes. Choices.

Choices.

That word suddenly rang out and everything else quietened. Something that she hadn’t had a lot of in her life as The Chosen One. Even now, with an army at her command and lightened yet even heavier responsibilities, she still felt the complete lack of choices available to her. But this offer of Whistler’s, of the PTB. An Offer of Choice.

It terrified her.

It thrilled her.

It filled her with fear.

It filled her with hope.

And she knew what she was going to do.

 

******************************************************************************************

 

It was a few days before anyone thought to ask where Buffy was, as no one had seen her in the training rooms or at meetings. Andrew being the one to notice would have come as no surprise to Buffy.  
Out of everyone from Sunnydale, he was the one who continually reached out to the Slayer and forced the connection to stay strong. It took another day before Giles could be convinced that something was wrong, his attention caught up firmly with Council matters. It was really only after Andrew had contacted Dawn to ask if Buffy was there that they went to her apartment and using the spare key, opened the door to that slightly musty, unlived in air that sent shivers up Giles’ spine.

The subsequent named envelopes found on the dining room table were enough to get the Scoobies back altogether for the first time in years. Within 16 hours, Willow, Xander, Dawn, Angel and Giles were gathered in a worried grim circle, seated at the very meeting table that Buffy had been sitting at herself only a week ago. Andrew, eyes red and lips chewed and cracked, hustled around handing out bottles of water and blood, snacks and generally being his usual self - but completely silent, only the occasional wet sigh or sniff to be heard. His silence alone would have been enough to wig everyone out.

Giles sat at his place at the head of the long table, his hand clenched around an amber filled glass that hadn’t run dry since finding the letters.  
  
Willow opened her mouth, paused, drew a breath, then closed her mouth, white lines appearing on the youthful face as she pressed her lips together tightly. Fury and grief alternated on Dawn’s face, tears occasionally escaping to trickle down her cheeks. Xander merely looked on, face drawn and quiet, while across the table, Angel was shaking his head in denial as he read his own letter.

“No, no, I … I just spoke to her. She..we talked about her dating again, settling down…”

Everyone jumped as Dawn slammed her fist on the table, glasses and pens scattering from the fury of the movement.

“It’s Bullshit!! Bull. Shit!! She didn’t say anything like that to me! This,” and she waved her own letter wildly, “is BULLSHIT!” the word burst from her throat in a harsh cry. In a fury, she tore the letter to pieces, shrieking her rage before bursting into tears and burying her head in her arms on the table. Willow reached out and drew the sobbing young woman into a hug, rubbing her hands up and down Dawn’s back soothingly.  
She glanced up and Giles, her eyes begging him for answers.

He simply leaned forward and laid the crumpled pages from his own hand gently on the table.

Willow reached out a shaking hand and drew the parchments to her before reading out loud.

 

 

 

> _Hi everyone,_
> 
> _I’m not sure how to start this, so I guess you’re going to have to bear with me here._
> 
> _Firstly, I’m sorry. I’m sorry that this is how I am telling you all, but we all know that it couldn’t have happened any other way. None of you would have allowed it, and that was the problem. But before that, let me explain._
> 
> _Whistler came to me last night and made me an offer. One I couldn’t refuse. One I didn’t WANT to refuse. The PTB have given me a choice. Something that I didn’t know I was needing._
> 
> _Two things really._
> 
> _They offered me the chance to go somewhere where I am needed, where a Slayer is needed. A chance to Be again. Not to be one in a thousand, not to be sidelined, but somewhere I can stretch and move, breathe and live again._
> 
> _They gave me Choice._
> 
> _I love you all, I always will. We have faced great trials and terrible fights, we have won and fought and loved. But I never really had a choice. I had Destiny. I had Fate. I had friends and family that kept me strong and together and loved._
> 
> _And caged. Caged by everyone else’s ideas and needs and demands and my own need to please and do what I thought was right, what you all told me was right._
> 
> _Please don’t think I blame any of you. I look back and can see where I put myself, where I did this to myself, to all of us. So this is my chance to change that. A reset if you like._  
>    
> _Whistler and the PTB have offered to take me to another dimension where that Slayer has died and they have a spot , a need for another to fill her place. A job vacancy really. I get to go make all new choices, make a whole new life._  
>  _No guilt, no pressure to make the right choices for everyone else. That world will end if I don’t go, that’s its destiny as of now, so any difference I make is a fresh start for all of us, that whole world. All fresh new futures. For them and me._
> 
> _Guys, please don’t look for me. Don’t spell me back, don’t search me out. This is my choice. A chance to change things and explore another life. It’s a reward actually. A reward for everything. MY reward. Let me have my choice, my reward. My chance._
> 
> _Whistler has assured me that my leaving here will have no impact on your world or the future. It’s why they picked me. My job here was done.  
>  And retirement was killing me guys. _
> 
> _I_ _am excited for the first time in years! Please understand, I’m not choosing this lightly, but god, I AM choosing this!_
> 
> _I have written you all personal letters, for whatever good they will do._
> 
> _I wish you all the best and all my love. Stay strong, stay true and maybe we’ll see each other again someday._
> 
> _Love forever and always  
>  _ _Buffy Summers_
> 
>  

 Willow dropped the sheets back to the table, her hands shaking slightly, she didn’t know if it was her or the sobbing woman in her arms. She looked blankly around the table as though seeking answers from the grim faces around her.

“What are we going to do? Shall I get my bag, we can start scrying…” but her voice drifted off as Xander stood calmly from his chair and dropped his own letter to the table.

“Why Wills? She has plainly made her choice. Didn’t exactly leave us any room to talk about it. Let her go.” He snarled softly as he turned and shrugged into his coat and Willow watched in shocked horror as he was obviously preparing to leave. Dawn’s tears ended abruptly and Willow felt her jerk out of her arms.

“Let Her GO?? LET HER GO??? Are you insane?? Who’s to say she chose ANYTHING??” She screamed at the closed off man, her fist clenched and body taut. “Buffy wouldn’t LEAVE! She’s ...she’s been taken by something!! This is just a ruse!! How could you say..”

Andrew’s quiet voice stopped Dawn cold.

“Of course she would leave.”

Dawn rounded on the normally timid man but froze at the sight of his face.

“Why would she stay? Honestly, why?” His now confusedly angry eyes skipped from Scoobie to Scoobie before returning to Dawn.

“Because this is her home _Andrew_ , her family! She belongs **Here**!” Dawn stamped her foot and glared, but for once, they saw the man that Andrew had slowly become. He huffed, shook his head and reached over for Xander’s letter, glancing at it before reaching for Angel’s.

“Buffy never belonged here. Not that any of you noticed, all swept up in your new and wonderful lives, but Buffy was … lost I think.” He reached for the letter Willow had read out loud and placed it gently on the pile he gathered. “She’s a warrior, not a trainer. She’s the original fighter, not an office manager. Yet, none of you really saw that. Not now, certainly not back then.” No one spoke as Andrew rounded the table and placed the pile of letters in front of the ex-watcher he looked up to and had admired so much. “She needs the fight like trees need sun. Not friends who don’t return calls, or merely call to talk about themselves then hang up. Not people who only need her when it's for them and not for her. Not the boredom of mundane life after non stop adrenaline filled adventures. “

Andrew straightened up the table, pushing in chairs and moving around the stunned group. His tone had become soft, yet his words cut and stung. Angel snorted.

“What would you know, boy? I spoke to Buffy all the time, she would have told me. No, I think Dawnie’s right.”

Andrew just shook his head and patted his pockets as though checking their contents.

“She did tell you Angel. For years. When you were busy telling her about your new life, when you started ordering her to ‘find a normal man and have kids, settle down.’ You wanted her to be you. All of you did, in your own ways. But that’s the point. That was the problem. She could never be any of you. She never _**wanted** _ to be any of you. She wanted to be Her. Whatever that was. But you didn’t hear her. None of you did I think.” Andrew stood by the door, his hand on the knob and he glanced sadly around the devastated group. “I suggest you actually read those letters she wrote. Really read them and then look past your understanding and try to see her. I’m just surprised it took this long actually. I had thought her gone in the first year. But then, she always did surprise me in everything she did.” Andrew smiled fondly. “I’m going to miss our girl.” He blinked rapidly and sniffed before a rueful chuckle escaped. “God she is magnificent. I wish I could see what she becomes. She’s going to be incredible!” And with a warm smile on his face, he nodded absently to the room in general and left.

 

* * *

 


End file.
